were writing to one another about. And so he was trusted by her! "Her friend, her friend," I thought, "and that is clear (and when has he had time to become her friend?), but is there love in the case? Of course not," common-sense whispered to me. But common-sense alone counts for little in such cases; anyway, this, too, had to be cleared up. Things were growing unpleasantly complicated.
Before I had time to go into the hotel, first the porter and then the ober-kellner, coming out of his room, informed me that I was wanted, that I had been asked for, three times they had sent to ask where was I?—that I was asked to go as quickly as possible to the General's rooms. I was in the most disagreeable frame of mind. In the General's room I found, besides the General himself, De Grieux and Mlle. Blanche—alone, without her mother. The mother was evidently an official one, only used for show. But when it came to real business she acted for herself. And probably the woman knew little of her so-called daughter's affairs.
They were, however, consulting warmly about something, and the doors of the study were actually locked—which had never happened before. Coming to the door, I heard loud voices—De Grieux's insolent and malignant voice, Blanche's shrill fury, and the General's pitiful tones, evidently defending himself about something. Upon my entrance they all, as it were, pulled themselves up and restrained themselves. De Grieux smoothed his hair and forced a smile into his angry face—that horrid official French smile which I so detest. The crushed and desperate General tried to assume an air of dignity, but it was a mechanical effort. Only Mlle. Blanche's countenance, blazing with anger, scarcely changed. She only ceased speaking while she fixed her eyes upon me in impatient expectation. I may mention that hitherto she had treated me with extraordinary casualness, had even refused to respond to my bows, and had simply declined to see me.
"Alexey Ivanovitch," the General began in a soft and mollifying tone; "allow me to tell you that it is strange, exceedingly strange…in fact, your conduct in regard to me and my family…in fact, it is exceedingly strange…"
"Eh! ce n'est pas ça," De Grieux interposed, with vexation and contempt. (There's no doubt he was the leading spirit.) "Mon cher monsieur, notre cher général se trompe, in taking up this tone" (I translate the rest of his speech in Russian), "but he meant to say…that is to warn you, or rather to beg
